Fantastic Nifflers and Why They Are Awesome
by yogini
Summary: One-shots with the cutest creature from FBAWTFT, the adorable Niffler. Different settings, characters AU:s etc.
1. Making friends

**Fantastic beasts and where to find them**

I don't own Fantastic beasts and where to find them or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

 **Making friends**

Newt is homeless and the Niffler tries to help him but since he has a tiny problem with the concept of personal belongings he actually ends up casuing more problems instead...

* * *

He doesn't look up, doesn't lift his gaze from the pavement as the steady flow of people continues, an endless stream of different persons parading past him where he sits slumped against the wall. Jeans-clad legs, the swish of a skirt, baggy sweatpants and nice pin-striped dress pants. Expensive shoes, ratty sneakers, high heels clicking sharply and the occasional pair of wellies, probably the smartest choice of footwear on such a miserably rainy and cold day. Everyone is bustling to and fro, going places and having somewhere to be. Everyone except him. He just sits and waits for lack of anything better to do.

As it gets later the crowds thins out and he's alone again. He hasn't had any luck with the shelters, all of them over-crowded because of the bad weather and unable to admit more people, and he doesn't have enough money pay for a subway ticket and spend the night going back and forth on a train. Besides, he knows the looks he'll get from the other passengers, how they'll move away from him and choose to sit elsewhere. How they'll look at his well-worn clothes and shabby backpack and comment on it behind his back. He's not prepared to face that tonight and instead settles for a cold night outside. It won't be pleasant but he's done it before.

Just as he's settled into a corner that is somewhat more sheltered from the wind he hears a strange, barely-there clicking noise. He looks up, trying to locate the source of the sound but it's dark and he can't see anything. As he busies himself with pulling on extra sweaters to prepare for the night he hears it again, followed by a chirp and then another one. The chittering gets more intense, insistent almost, and he looks up to find him himself face to face with a weird-looking creature. It resembles a platypus but it has clawed little feet instead of webbed ones and it has a shorter tail. He has never seen anything like it before but it seems friendly enough. It chitters again as it holds out its tiny paws, cupped and palms facing up, offering him a small pile of coins. It's not much but after a quick calculation he knows that will be enough to buy him a cup of coffee and a roof over his head for as long as he keeps sipping on it.

He hesitates slightly before holding out his hand and the creature happily dumps the coins in his palm before bouncing closer and starting to inspect his backpack, seemingly very interested in the fake brass buckles on the straps. He smiles, already tasting the warmth of the coffee, when someone clears his throat. He looks up to see a pair of boots and knees dressed in blue uniform pants. When he tilts his head back even more he realizes that the uniform-clad legs are connected to an equally uniform-clad torso and is topped with an unamused face and a police cap. The officer looks pointedly at the money that he's holding and he realizes that the strange creature is gone and that there is a small red purse on the pavement beside him. It's open, empty and he's willing to believe that the coins that he's holding used to belong in it. He swallows and gets to his feet, allows his hands to be cuffed behind his back. There is no way that the officer will believe him even if he explains how it all happened.

When they arrive at the police station the custody sergeant must feel sorry for him because the cell he's led to after being processed is equipped with both several blankets and a tray with a piping hot meal. As the cell door clanks shut behind him he almost shrieks as something wraps itself around his ankle. He jumps aside but when he looks down he realizes it's the small creature from before, a contrite look all over his furry face, and he sighs as he reaches down to pat it on the head. He's not happy about being arrested but he's not sorry about being inside and warm either and he says as much to the creature who chirps happily, head-butts his hand and scrambles onto the cot to inspect the tray.

They share the meal in companionable silence and then the creature clambers up to perch on his shoulder as he untangles the heap of blankets, holding a steady grip on the collar of his coat for balance, and then burrows down with a content snuffle as he stretches out on the narrow cot and drapes the blankets over the both of them.

Oh well. The situation might not be ideal but at least he's got a warm bed for the night and a friendly little companion and when he wants to get out, he's sure that he can convince his furry little friend to steal the shiny, nice key from the guard for him.


	2. Pilfering pe(s)ts

I don't own Fantastic beasts and where to find them or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

 **Pilfering pe(s)ts**

Jacob's kitchen utensils keep disappearing mysteriously...

* * *

It's Sunday afternoon and Jacob is hustling and bustling around in the kitchen, preparing for what will undoubtedly be another busy week for the bakery. He always prepares the puff pastry the night before, both because that's how grandma Kowalski taught him to do it and because it tastes better when it has rested overnight. Also, the process folding and rolling takes forever and, as much as he loves his bakery, he doesn't want to get out of bed at an even more ungodly hour than he currently does. He also likes to get a couple of bread doughs done, leaving them to rise overnight and develop nice, rich flavours. And again, it allows him to sleep longer in the mornings. He's never been overly fond of leaving his bed but he's never had much of a problem with it either, and he suspects that the sudden reluctance to do so that he's been feeling has something to do with the goddess that suddenly shares it with him.

He's just finished measuring out all the ingredients for the first dough when he realizes that he can't find a spoon to mix it with.

"I could've sworn I had it a minute ago" he mutters, scratching his head, as he opens a drawer to get another one. When one dough is ready he covers it, carries it into the cool storage room and leaves it there to prove overnight before he starts measuring out the ingredients for the next and realizes that the bowl he was just about to pour the flour into is gone.

"Wasn't there a bowl on the counter just a minute ago?" he asks himself suspiciously, looking around and half expecting someone to be there pranking him. But the kitchen is empty and he shrugs and gets himself another one and soon he's forgotten the whole thing, whistling jauntily as he measures, mixes, kneads. When there's a whole shelf filled with covered dishes, pans and trays in the storage room he pauses and looks around, content to see that everything is ready for the mad Monday morning rush. His eyes fall upon the crate of fresh apples standing in the corner and he suddenly feels like making a pie. He knows that Queenie could make one with just a clever flick of her wand but he likes the idea of coming home and surprising her with it.

He washes the apples, puts them on the countertop and rummages through the drawer to find a small knife to peel them with. At last he manages to find one and he absentmindedly wonders if Henry moved them or if they're all still at the drying rack after being washed because the drawer seems emptier than usual. After the apples are peeled he tosses them into a saucepan, adds a little sugar and butter, cinnamon and raisins, and then lets them bubble away as he prepares the pie crust. The knife goes missing again just as he's about to start cubing the butter for the pastry, then the spoon that was beside the saucepan is gone when he wants to stir the apples. He starts to doubt his own sanity because things doesn't just vanish into thin air but he decides that he's probably just tired. He'll finish the pie, take it home and then get some sleep. He lifts the shortcrust pastry, carefully because it's rolled out thinly, but when he lowers it over the pie dish it ends up straight on the countertop because the pie dish isn't there anymore. Gone, from right under his nose. And that's when it hits him, with complete clarity, because the spoon, the bowl, the pie dish and the knife where all made of metal. Shiny metal.

"Niffler!" he booms out, enraged, and the next thing that happens is a loud clattering of metal as the pie dish is dropped and the door slams shut after a hasty exit.

And if he wasn't already one hundred percent sure that the Niffler was behind everything he gets all the confirmation that ne needs when he looks down on his wrist and realizes that his watch is gone.

"For crying out loud!"

He finishes the pie, stomps home and proceeds to tell Queenie everything. He loves Newt's creatures, he really does. He just wishes that they wouldn't, you know, bite him, chase him or steal from him. And he loves the fact that Newt's started to come out of his shell over the last couple of months, he genuinely does, but…

"He scolded me!" he exclaims indignantly. "Me! Said _I_ was putting the Niffler in danger by allowing him to be around sharp objects. I didn't allow him to be there at all!"

"Oh, honey" Queenie soothes him. "I'll talk to Newt about it."

The next day Queenie works her magic on Newt, Newt works his magic on the bakery and it becomes a blessedly Niffler-free zone, apart from the sugary ones made of choux pastry.


	3. Safe and sound

**Fantastic beasts and where to find them**

I don't own Fantastic beasts and where to find them or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

 **Safe and sound**

The niffler has found a new home with Newt

* * *

The evening is approaching and it's time to take care of all the creatures, feed them and otherwise prepare for the night. Newt moves from nests to burrows to fields, handing out food, checking injuries and administering treatments and cuddles as needed. As he walks around he's followed by a small shadow in the form of the niffler who trots along, chittering and chattering and generally getting in the way, but Newt likes the company well enough and doesn't mind almost falling over a couple of times.

The last thing he does every night before going to sleep is to prepare the potions that he needs the first thing in the morning and normally the niffler would return to his burrow by then but tonight he stays close, clambering onto the workbench and attentively following the steps of preparation as Newt chops, crushes and blends the herbs. When he's done putting away the finished potions he pauses for a moment and looks at the niffler who's busy sifting through the contents of a drawer, holding this up and discarding that as he no doubt assesses the level of shine on each item. He lets the niffler indulge for a while, watching and feeling equal parts happy and sad when he thinks about the difference about then and now.

The niffler's dark fur is shiny now and his eyes are bright and alert, looking nothing like the miserable little creature that they found during the raid, half-starved and with dirty, matted fur, eyes empty and unfocused. His claws had not been tended to in god knows how long and Newt had to sedate him just to be able to assess the damage, let alone to be able to do any treatment. It has been hard work to undo the damage and restore the faith that had been destroyed. He was suspicious against the food and the water that he was given despite being both ravenous and thirsty, having been drugged numerous times to be more easily subdued. He didn't like anyone to touch the pouch on his stomach, remembering the harsh hands who'd emptied it of all the things that he'd been forced to steal, night after night even if he was tired or hungry. And he'd fly off the handle completely if he saw anything with the barest resemblance to a cage, box or anything else that could be used to lock him up.

It had taken a lot of time for him to trust Newt, to really believe that he wouldn't hurt him or force him to steal things or lock him into a small, cold cage but seeing him now, happily following him around, comfortable with his presence is all the proof that Newt needs to know that kindness and time has worked its magic and made the small creature healthy again. Yes, these days he's a far cry from the dirty, scared creature that Newt picked up all those months ago, who cowered in the back of his cage, terrified, and refused to let anyone come near him and Newt's glad to see him so happy but when the niffler all but laughs him in the face and scampers off to rob a bank Newt thinks that maybe he took the whole independence thing a bit too far.

He forces himself to return to the present when the niffler suddenly stills, looking intensely at a small silvery hip flask that Newt honestly didn't know he owned. It seems to meet the approval of the small creature and he clears his throat pointedly and holds his hand out before it disappears. The niffler sulks and pouts but ultimately hands it over and Newt places it back with everything else and closes the drawer before getting ready to sleep, placing a small charm on the drawer to make it niffler-proof.

When he climbs into bed and pulls the covers up to his chin he hears the scraping of claws and a moment later the niffler's head appears above the bedframe. He makes an inquisitive noise and Newt, a little surprised but happy, rolls down the covers to allow the niffler to burrow down with him. It takes only a minimum of wriggling before he's curled into a small ball, tucked in securely beneath Newt's chin and then they both drift off to sleep.

⁕⁑⁑⁕

The niffler likes his new human. He wasn't too sure at first because all he could remember was mean humans with rough hands but this one has never grabbed him tightly or yelled at him, and with time he starts to believe that he won't do so in the future either.

And he doesn't. He only gives him good food, not the bad kind that made him feel sleepy and weird, and he helps comb out his fur so that the tangles don't pull uncomfortably on his skin anymore. He's never harsh with him and he's helped build a perfect nest where he can keep all his treasures. It's not too big and not too small, just the perfect size, and it is always warm and cosy.

Like all two-legged creatures he's overly concerned with what's mine and what's yours, especially when it comes to nice shiny things, but he can overlook that. His human is always nice, even when he tickles him to get the shiny things out of his pouch, and even if he doesn't like to give up his treasures, because _treasures_ , he thinks it's fun to be tickled. Besides, his human always cuddles with him afterwards. He suspects that that also has something to do with the fact that his human wants to keep an eye on him but he doesn't mind. His human is warm and safe and gives the best head scratches. And belly scratches. All the scratches really. And the best thing is that when he just happens to end up inside a bank vault his human might shake his head and look at him disapprovingly but he's knows that as soon as they get home he'll still be allowed to curl up close and sleep safely.


	4. TLC

**Fantastic beasts and where to find them**

I don't own Fantastic beasts and where to find them or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

 **TLC**

Newt's fallen ill and his creatures are doing everything they can to make him feel better...

* * *

He feels as if he's been sleeping for weeks as he slowly becomes more aware of his surroundings. He blearily looks at his dinner tray from last night, barely touched and then sadly discarded on the table, and realizes that he must've fallen asleep on the couch, not even making it into his own bed. His head doesn't pound as bad as last night but his throat is sore and he feels woozy and weak and he knows without checking that he has a fever. He groans as he works himself into a seated position but just as he tries to stand up the niffler appears out of nowhere and plops down on his lap. Newt runs a shaking hand over its head, smiling when the creature head-butts his hand for more cuddles, and mentally prepares for getting up and making himself some food. He's not feeling hungry and would much rather just curl up on the couch and never leave but he knows that he needs to eat as well, or at least get something to drink to stay hydrated. Maybe he could heat up some soup.

"Come on, little buddy, I need to get up" he whispers hoarsely, gently trying to prompt the niffler to move to the cushion beside him but the creature stubbornly refuses to move and chitters impatiently. A moment later a bowl and a steaming mug of tea appears around the corner and bobs through the air, coming to a halt on the table in front of him and Newt suddenly feels like weeping with gratitude.

"Thanks Dougal" he rasps out, reaching out to grab the mug and soothe his throat. The tea is hot, strong and has a generous dollop of honey in it. He sips slowly until it's gone and then pulls the bowl towards him while the tray of dirty dishes floats away towards the kitchen.

When he's finished both the soup and the tea he lays back down and pulls his coat up to his chin, only to have it yanked off him a moment later and replaced with a thick woollen blanket. He dozes on and off for most of the day while his creatures gather around and try to make him feel better. Pickett keeps fussing with his hair, pushing it away from his sweaty forehead, and Dougal keeps bringing him tea, and then another bowl of soup. The Occamies curl up close, trying to keep him warm and purring comfortingly in his ear. The niffler tries to cheer him up by stealing him a nice pocket watch but Newt tells him, as sternly as he can in his weakened state, to give it back immediately and that if he absolutely has to steal things the household is in need of handkerchiefs more than anything. The niffler returns clutching a fancy one in his little paw, one that is monogrammed and interwoven with silver thread, and if Newt ever finds out what the initials AW stand for he'll have to apologize to them for instigating the handkerchief heist. As for right now, all he has the energy to do is to blow his nose and get back to sleep.

Despite the collective efforts from all of Newt's creatures he doesn't feel any better the next day and he notices that they're worried. He tries to reassure them but when he attempts a weak smile the dry skin on his lips cracks and bleeds and that only makes it worse. A wave of dizziness hits him and he lays back down, immediately covered by a blanket of wool and Occamies. Just before he slips under he thinks he heard the apartment door close and he weakly prays that the niffler doesn't try robbing any banks until he's back on his feet and can keep the small kleptomaniac out of trouble.

The next time he wakes up he finds that someone is inside his apartment, looking at him, and he blinks and tries to sit up when he's firmly pushed down and the worried face of Percival Graves comes into view.

"Percival?" he croaks out and the other man shushes him gently.

"I'll make some tea for your throat" he promises and Newt is confused but too tired to argue. When he comes back with the tea Newt realizes that he's picked up a hitchhiker as well. The niffler is perched on his shoulder, keeping a firm grip of the collar of his dark coat.

"This little one was worried about you" the other wizard explains and scratches the niffler under the chin, making it trill happily. "He came to find me at work and wouldn't leave me alone until I followed him here."

"They've all looked after me" Newt explains and Pickett chirps in agreement.

"I don't doubt it but you really don't look well" Percival says, eyeing him critically. "Now, where do you keep the medicines?"

"In the shed" Newt mumbles into the mug of tea and Percival makes a surprised noise.

"You keep your medicines in the shed?"

"Oh." Newt lifts his gaze. "You mean for humans?"

"Yes, Newt, for humans" Percival answers drily, barely managing not to roll his eyes. "It's astounding how poorly you treat yourself when we all know how caring you are when it comes to your creatures and other people."

"Well, I'm not…" Newt coughs embarrassedly, blushing profusely. "I'm not terribly sure that I have any really." Percival sighs.

"I'll swing by the mediwizards department and pick something up." He moves to the centre of the room and prepares to apparate, then remembers that the niffler's still on his shoulder and picks the small creature up.

"Be good" he tells it sternly and the niffler hops from his palm down onto the pillow next to Newt's head where he curls up. "I'll be back in a moment."

Three days later Newt is fever free and well again but Percival still isn't leaving his apartment. Newt is a little confused at first but as the days pass he's starting to think that he'd rather like it if Percival stayed forever.


	5. Treat yo'self

**Fantastic beasts and where to find them**

I don't own Fantastic beasts and where to find them or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.

* * *

 **Treat yo'self**

Niffler, cute kleptomaniac extraordinare vs. Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

* * *

He knows what's going on as soon as the first muffled curse is heard outside his office. It's quickly followed by increasingly frantic activity as pockets are rifled through, drawers pulled out and bags upended to reveal their contents and, more importantly, what's missing from them. Percival sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He should have remembered what day it was. Newt Scamander had accepted the offer to come to New York and work with MACUSA employees to produce new regulations on protection and care of magical creatures and the magizoologist, suit-case confined menagerie included, was scheduled to be at the office today to present an early draft to the President. So far the niffler has, to his knowledge, managed to escape no less than five times already and he should have known that it was only a matter of time before it happened at the MACUSA headquarters as well. At least this time his aurors wouldn't have to obliviate any unsuspecting citizens that happened to see the little thief. More and more foul language is heard and before long the whole department is in an uproar and he can't, try as he might, ignore it any longer. As he tiredly massages his temples he gets to his feet to sort out this mess. With all his auror training and field experience he usually chases criminals that are bigger than the size of a grapefruit. Oh, dignity. He had it once.

Exiting his office he catches a small movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately reacts.

"Niffler!" he shouts and quickly casts as spell, one of the few that has been proven to be effective to catch the little thief, and the small creature pouts as it zooms through the air towards him, its paws protectively resting on top of its bulging belly pouch to keep everything safely inside. Inwardly it probably curses the fact that Scamander is no longer the only person in New York to know that spell. He plucks it neatly out of the air as soon as it's within reach, gripping it around the belly tight enough to not let it get away again but loose enough not to hurt.

"Give it up" he tells it sternly and only receives an undignified farting noise in response. Rolling his eyes at the insolent creature he grabs its legs, tips it gently upside down as he's seen Scamander do and tickles it to make the loot fall out, all while the niffler ineffectively tries to jab at his fingers in between giggling like a little loon.

When all contraband has been collected, sorted and a tad sullenly relinquished to the rightful owners he grabs the wretched creature by the scruff of its neck and marches off to find its irresponsible owner. He finds him, deep in concentration, bent over a desk filled with heavy books and an old, battered laptop with a large stain of what looks to be dragon's blood.

"Mr Scamander! Control that bloody pet of yours!"

"I'm not quite sure what you're…" Newt says, looking up from a detailed sketch of what seems to be an occamy, and Percival all but thrusts the niffler in his face.

"Oh." Newt turns around, looking from the niffler to the case on the floor that is ever so slightly open and then back again. "I didn't… It won't happen again, ever. I'm so very sorry. And so is he, he's terribly regretful. Terribly, I assure you."

"I can see that" Percival replies drily as the niffler kicks his tiny little legs back and forth, swaying in his hold and looking very much like he enjoys himself and the impromptu swinging opportunity. "This is what going to happen. You're responsible for this creature, Mr Scamander. Every time that he does something that he knows that he's not supposed to do and you didn't dissuade him or otherwise prevent him from doing it, you'll be held accountable for it. Understood?" And with that he hands the niffler over and sweeps away to get some much deserved coffee and save the sad remains of his dignity.

He thinks that it'll be the last that he sees of little creature and his coat-wearing owner but it turns out that the smuggling ring that they'd been trying to take down for quite some time now not only smuggles prohibited substances but also beasts and creatures and Scamander is called in to consult. Only to consult, but somehow he didn't get the memo and ends up in the middle of the fray where Percival has to bodily tackle him to the floor to get him out of harm's way. When Scamander opens his arms to reveal the small nundu cub that he'd been protecting Percival can't help but grudgingly admire the other man's courage. And take a large step backwards because as much as the cub seems to like Scamander, it is downright hostile when it hisses at him.

After that the magizoologist becomes something of a regular sight at MACUSA, offering his assistance to the auror department on more cases involving magical beasts and helping staff care for and rehome creatures rescued on different raids, as well as working on his new book. Percival finds himself intrigued by the man after attending one of his seminars and they get to know each other quite well after going undercover together to infiltrate an underground club organizing illegal fights. There are some things that two people can't go through without becoming close and being tied up together and locked into a damp dungeon cell is one of them. Percival doesn't have many friends, more used to colleagues and acquaintances, but there's something about Newt and he finds himself spending more and more time with him. He's still quite surprised when he finds himself offering the other man to move in with him when he struggles to find an accommodation that accepts all his pets, although not as surprised as the other aurors and when he announces that he's taking a day off work to accompany Newt on a rehoming trip to another state he can almost hear the clacking noise when everyone's jaws collectively hit the floor. Percival rolls his eyes at his colleagues and decides he better not tell them that he's started to make the other man breakfast to make sure that he eats properly before work, lest they'd have an aneurysm.

Living and spending time with Newt inevitably means spending time with his whole menagerie as well and while Percival starts to quite like the various creatures, not that he'll ever admit it, he's still the Director of Magical Security and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and he'll be damned if he'd let a kleptomaniac, no matter it's shape, size or form, run loose and wreak havoc in New York. Not on his watch.

He makes a point of carrying the niffler around, having him give back every piece of stolen property in person, hoping that the niffler will somehow see the error of his ways when faced with so many disgruntled MACUSA employees. Sadly, the effect is ruined by the niffler's cuteness and everyone ends up cooing over the creature instead, effectively ruining the message that he's trying to get across. Next, he tries to ignore him when he behaves badly but that backfires as well. Scolded by everyone from Newt to the President on how he makes the creature sad by not talking to him and shutting him out of his office, he's forced to change and let him roam freely even if it means taking back his grandfather's old watch at least twice a day and have his lap serving as a place to nap when thieving becomes too exhausting. No one will ever know that he's absentmindedly stroking the niffler's fur when that happens, nor that he happens to find the creature's tiny snores downright adorable.

In desperation he then turns to various behaviour training techniques and tries everything from reward charts to naughty corners. Safe to say, it doesn't work and Newt hits him over the head and tells him to never have children. Then, seeing the scowl on his face he leans in closer trying to smooth it out, trips, falls and just happens to faceplant into him and kiss him. Percival doesn't know whether it was deliberate or not but he's too busy kissing back to care. He does however flip off the wolf-whistling demiguise and close the door to his office to stop the whole department from gawking.

When he's exhausted all other methods he takes to spending hours and hours at the library, looking for any kind of spell or other solution but the creature's own magic counteracts most of the things that he tries and any attempt to thwart the niffler's thievery ultimately proves to be futile. Percival swears that it's not only because of the niffler's nature and inherent need to take anything shiny that Newt suggests as an explanation but also because it's like a game for him, otherwise he wouldn't look so goddamn smug every time he's managed to outsmart him.

At long last he admits defeat and casts a charm on his office that doesn't prevent theft, because he has yet to find one that's completely effective, but one that at least alerts him when it happens so that he can get his things back. Then he teaches the same spell to his co-workers and goes home to contemplate his life choices.

When Newt gets home from a trip outside the city he's pleasantly surprised to see that Percival's shoes are already by the door. The man has been known as MACUSA:s worst workaholic for years and years and while he's made a point of going home earlier to spend more time with his boyfriend it's surprising to see him home at this hour, especially since he knew that Newt would be out of town until late. He peeks into the kitchen and sees the niffler comfortably snuggled up in his little basket, clutching a small box in his paw and wearing a tiny little t-shirt that proudly proclaims: "Treat yo'self!"

"Absolutely not." Newt turns sharply on his heel and stomps off to find his boyfriend and tell him off. He might not be as zealous when it comes to preventing theft as he has been, both because it's in the niffler's nature to crave shiny objects and because having the Director of Magical Security as his boyfriend has proven to be beneficial when it comes to getting out of trouble, whether it's creature related or not but there's a difference between that and actively showing open support like this. Absolutely not, indeed. "Percival! Don't you dare encouraging him! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"If you can't beat them, join them" comes the muffled response and Newt skids around the corner to find him lying face down on the sofa, a tumbler of whisky on the table and reruns of Parks and Rec playing on the television. "This is me officially giving up. Oh, and by the way. I was going to ask you to marry me but the niffler stole the ring."


End file.
